


know the reason for the season

by Lire_Casander



Series: snowed in [4]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: 12 Days Of Tarlos, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, suggestion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: snippets of their second christmas together
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: snowed in [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74
Collections: Twelve Days of Tarlos 2020





	1. dreaming of a white christmas

**Author's Note:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _white christmas_ , hanson’s version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s snowing on the first day of their holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _white christmas_ , hanson’s version
> 
> written for [12 days of tarlos 2020](https://buckieys.tumblr.com/post/631968766900797440/12-days-of-tarlos-dec-14-25), **_day 4: impromptu vacation_**

It's not that Carlos has _never_ seen snow. He has, in fact, seen some snow in his life — but it's never been a full snowed-in situation, just a few snowflakes here and there because Austin is far too warm for the snow to set, even in winter. 

That’s why he almost freaks out when he wakes up the first day of his short winter holiday — the first time in years he has managed to snatch five days in a row between Christmas Day and New Yearʼs — and he sees white falling from the sky outside his window. 

The dim light filters through the half-closed blinds on the windows, showering the room in oranges and purples and pinks. Carlos loves the shadows it projects on the covers, undefinable shapes on fluffy fabrics. 

“TK?” he stutters, patting down on his boyfriendʼs side of the bed. “TK, it’s snowing!” 

“Wha—?” TK mumbles, still half asleep. Carlos won't take any of that so he keeps shaking his boyfriend until TK begins to sound more awake. “Iʼm awake, Iʼm awake, what’s going on?” 

“Itʼs snowing!” Carlos says, awe painting his voice with a childish veil. 

“And?” TK slurs, evidently not finding the situation strange. 

Carlos huffs. He doesn’t reply to his boyfriend, too busy getting out from under the covers and skidding through the room to the window. He all but plasters his face to the glass, nose pressed to the cold surface as he watches the snowflakes swirling outside. 

“Itʼs like a miracle,” he mutters. “It never snows this much here.” 

TK groans from his spot in the bed, not moving until he finally realizes Carlos isn’t coming back to him. “Are you serious now?” he asks. “It’s not even six in the morning of our first day off in _weeks_!” 

“I’ve never seen so much snow in person,” Carlos tells him, not even bothering to push off the glass window. He knows he sounds like a child, but he doesn’t care. This is a wonderful event, something he doesn’t get to see on a daily basis — or ever — so he thinks heʼs allowed to be a little amazed at it. 

“For real?” Carlos can hear a rustle at his back; TK must have slid out of the bed. “You have _never_ seen snow?” 

“Not this much,” Carlos admits. “It snows here from time to time, but never this much.” 

TK reaches him. He sits on the windowsill where Carlos is currently kneeling, hands and nose and half his body flush against the glass. 

“Well, we have to remedy that right now.” 

“Remedy what?” Carlos asks, finally tearing apart his gaze from outside and focusing on his boyfriend. “My lack of having seen snow before?” 

“That’s it!” TK cries out. “You’re going to New York right now!” 

“What?” 

TK fishes around until he finds his laptop, which had been hibernating on the small table close to the window. He starts it once again, and punches his password, while Carlos frowns at him. 

“What are you doing, TK?” 

“Me?” TK mumbles distractedly as he types away. “Finding flights up to the city.” 

“Isn’t this a bit, uh, sudden?” 

TK doesn’t seem to hear him. His fingers are flying over the keyboard while he mutters something that sounds eerily similar to _take off at nine_. Carlos openly stares at him now, snow forgotten. “TK?” he says tentatively. “Are you—are you purchasing flight tickets to New York?” 

“Why, of course!” TK smiles without tearing his gaze off the screen. “If the flight is at nine, we need to be at the airport at seven. Plenty of time—” 

“We can't go to New York in the middle of Christmas, TK!” 

“Hey, why not?” Finally, _finally_ , TK looks up at him. “We have the days off, and there’s a red-eye tonight, and mom will be thrilled to have us. Shit, I need to call her!” 

Carlos puts a hand on TKʼs arm to stop talking. Those big green eyes lock with his, and Carlos can see the plea in them. It still sounds crazy. 

“Weʼve spent Christmas Eve with my dad and Christmas Day with your family. They all know weʼd rather be alone on New Yearʼs. Why can't we go up? Mom has been complaining that she doesn’t get to see us so much.” 

Carlos bites his lower lip. It’s true that ever since TK moved to Texas, his mother has seen less of him. Even though she came down after TK got shot — that was the first time Carlos had ever talked to her — they had yet to travel to New York to visit her. They haven't found a moment in two and a half years — Gwenyth has always been the one to wound up sleeping in the Strandʼs guest room. 

“I just, I donʼt know, TK.” Carlos sighs. “When do you say we would leave?” 

“Tonight?” TK singsongs. “There’s no point in refusing, I have already paid for the tickets. And you know, once it's not an ungodly hour to call her, I will tell mom and she will be delighted. Iʼm telling you.” 

Carlos can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I have always dreamed of going to New York during Christmas,” he confesses. “Rockefeller Center seems to be quite the place.” 

“Everything is perfect there at Christmas,” TK promises Carlos. “You’re going to love it. And, you know, we can even go to Times Square to welcome the new year.” 

There’s a hint of excitement in TKʼs words, and his face, that erases all of Carlosʼ doubts. They have already spent time with the rest of their families — they have even exchanged gifts with Owen and Zoe and Carlosʼ parents and sisters — so a little trip to visit TKʼs mom won't hurt. 

“Okay,” he acquiesces, earning himself a strident whoop from his boyfriend. “But first call your mom. I don't want her to feel obligated to have us. If she has plans already, then we can go to a hotel.” 

“Hotel fares are way too high these days,” TK explains. “Mom wouldn’t want us staying anywhere else, you know. She’d be offended.” TK checks the time on the clock on Carlosʼ night table — the green fluorescent numbers blinking at them — and nods to himself. “I think mom will be awake now. She’s always been an early riser.” 

Carlos lets him grab his phone and dial his motherʼs number, smiling fondly at his boyfriend as he talks to Gwenyth and tells her all about their impromptu holiday that starts in a little over twelve hours. He turns once again toward the window only to realize that the snow has stopped falling, becoming a drizzle. He chuckles. 

He’s going to be walking in the snow really soon.


	2. way up north where the air gets cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tk and carlos brave the mall on boxing day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _little saint nick_ , hanson’s version
> 
> written for [12 days of tarlos 2020](https://buckieys.tumblr.com/post/631968766900797440/12-days-of-tarlos-dec-14-25), **_day 6: free day_**

Boxing Day is always the worst to go shopping. They both knew that, and yet here they are, at the busiest mall in all Austin during the busiest day of the whole year, running around trying to buy Carlos nice, warm winter gear for their impromptu trip up to New York City.

“I think I am getting motion sick while standing in the middle of a mall,” Carlos groans, clutching TKʼs arm like it is a lifeline. Around them, people are running and shrieking, groups of teenagers strolling throughout the space with their loud voices, and there’s even a mother with her three children trying to calm the youngest one while the others are giving Luciano Pavarotti a run for his money. 

“Me too,” TK agrees. They step aside, closer to the windows of one of the stores, and avoid getting pushed to the ground by some man who's chasing another kid that has seemingly run off. “How about we try to find somewhere to sit down and drink coffee?” 

Carlos nods stiffly. They navigate the halls, jumping out of the way when someone barrels through the space, and holding the few bags with the items that they have managed to buy on sale at the eleventh store they visited. Not that Carlos has been keeping score, but it was hard not to feel discouraged upon entering store after store and being forced to leave empty-handed because there were either too many people inside or not a single thing that suited him. 

Miraculously, they find one empty table at the local Starbucks among the mayhem that the mall has currently become. TK makes a beeline for it while Carlos gets in the line — longer than ever — to order their drinks. TK texts him his preference; Carlos grins hopelessly at the screen of his phone as he walks up the queue faster than expected, his boyfriend making the wait bearable with silly gifs and pictures. When heʼs up for ordering, his mood has improved noticeably and heʼs able to ask with a soft smile for one Venti Caramel Macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot of espresso, and one Venti Hot Chocolate with a swing of caramel as well. He balances both paper cups in his hands before heading back to their table where TK has already taken some napkins. 

“Let me get some sugar,” Carlos tells him after dropping the cups on the surface. 

“Nah, it’s fine like this,” TK stops him, one hand on top of Carlosʼ. “I just want to enjoy my coffee and spend some quality time with you.” 

Carlos chuckles at his boyfriend. They're completely smitten with each other even after two years and a half, and Carlos is shameless in showing TK how much he loves him. Before sitting down in front of him, Carlos leans in to kiss the crown of TKʼs head where before entering the mall rested a woolen beanie. “We already spend quality time together, Ty. And weʼre even going to New York!” 

“I can't allow my boyfriend to go through life without having experienced Christmas in New York.” 

“Christmas was _yesterday_ ,” Carlos gently reminds him. “There will be snow but not the Christmas spirit.”

“Us New Yorkers don't give up on Christmas so soon!” TK replies heatedly. “The ice rink in Rockefeller is up until way after Christmas, and some decorations don’t get taken down until the first days of January.” TK is waving his hands in front of himself, almost knocking the coffee down. “There will be plenty of things to do for us. I can't wait to show you everything!” 

Carlos can't help but feel excited as well for their impromptu vacation. He had been so disappointed to see the decorations already down at the mall in order to accommodate the images for sales for Boxing Day — Christmas is his favorite holiday in the whole year, over his own birthday even, and to watch it being ripped off merely hours after Christmas Day has been a blow. TK has felt it in the way Carlos has gripped his hand tighter, and ever since heʼs tried to make light of every obstacle they come across. 

Now, over three hours later, they're just bidding their time before coming back home and packing the sturdy coat and all the thermal undershirts TK has deemed necessary. 

“I still can't believe we managed to get everything you wanted,” Carlos mutters. “During Boxing Day no less. You are a superhero.” 

TK laughs — pristine notes echoing around them — before sipping from his coffee. “I don’t think so,” he contradicts Carlos. “But I am happy knowing you believe I am.” 

Carlos resists the urge to stand up and surround the table so he can hug TK. Even after all this time, TK still had trouble believing that Carlos loves him unconditionally. It took them the best part of their first months together to rebuild some sort of resemblance of self-esteem that TK could cling to during his lowest days. Nowadays, he often makes snide remarks like this one — words that never fail to make Carlos want to punch everyone who has ever made TK feel so small — but they have no heat to them. It's just jest. 

“You are,” Carlos insists in earnest. TK beams up at him; that smile never fails to turn Carlosʼ insides to mush. “My hero.” 

“Well,” TK quips, checking his new wristwatch — a gift from Mamá Reyes that he hasnʼt taken off since unwrapping the box at midnight between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day — and sighing. “Your hero thinks itʼs time to head back. Traffic is usually a mess and today it will be worse. We need to be home soon to finish packing your suitcase in time to ride the cab to the airport.” 

“I told you, I can dri—” 

“I know you can drive,” TK cuts him. “But Iʼd rather you don't, tonight. Just enjoy.” 

Carlos stands up this time, offering his hand to his boyfriend and pulling him up until theyʼre nose to nose. “I am enjoying it alright,” he whispers suggestively as he flushes himself against TK. 

“Officer Reyes!” TK stage whispers, feigning being scandalized. “Weʼre in public!” 

“Imagine what I will do to you once weʼre alone,” Carlos says into TKʼs ear. “God, what you do to me.” 

TK snickers as he steps back and puts some space between them. “My room back at my momʼs is far away from hers,” he says, offering that piece of information almost nonchalantly. “If you can wait a bit, I mean.”

Carlos intertwines his fingers with TKʼs before walking toward the nearest exit. They still have a long shot until reaching the Camaro — parking at the mall on Boxing Day has been another nightmare in and on itself — but they take their time, leisurely strolling around, checking the windows and resting head on head as they stare at their reflection on the last glass they catch before walking outside the place. 

“I can't wait to show you around,” TK says out of the blue when they’re already reaching the car. “I have the feeling it's going to be epic.” 

“Me too,” Carlos tells his boyfriend in a hushed tone as he unlocks the Camaro. “Believe me, me too.”


	3. as we dream by the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tk and carlos land in new york to a few upgrades in tkʼs old room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _winter wonderland_ , hanson’s version
> 
> written for [12 days of tarlos 2020](https://buckieys.tumblr.com/post/631968766900797440/12-days-of-tarlos-dec-14-25), **_day 8: fireside hot chocolate_**
> 
>  **warnings:** please note that the rating has changed to _mature_. this is the chapter where they earn the rating!

“Here, weʼre already home,” Gwenyth says as she unlocks the front door to her Central Park West apartment for them. 

Carlos hadn't thought it could be possible to feel smaller than he already has while riding through the busy streets of Manhattan, but he's proved wrong as he steps into Gwenyth’s home

Carlos was already in awe during the cab ride from La Guardia to the city, with it being his first time in New York — he knows he's lucky to experience the Big Apple in its Christmas splendor, but he's still astonished at how wonderful everything was under the whiteness of thick snow. What he wasn't expecting was setting foot into a luxury space with painted walls and wooden floors. 

Gwenythʼs apartment is located in a tall building with a concierge and three elevators, far too luxurious for Carlosʼ liking — but it is the place where TK grew up, and if Carlos is being honest with himself, it explains a lot of TKʼs responses to daily situations. 

“This is so nice, Ms. Str—I mean, Gwenyth,” Carlos corrects himself before Gwenyth can chide him for not calling her by her given name. It’s been an ongoing war between TKʼs parents and Carlos — he doesn’t seem to be able to switch from the manners his mother taught him to comfortably addressing his soon-to-be parents-in-law. 

That is, if TK says yes when Carlos drops on one knee and presents him with the engagement ring that has been burning a hole in his pocket since he purchased it six months ago. 

“Why don’t you settle down, rest a bit?” Gwenyth suggests, guiding them down the hall. Carlos follows TK to his old room while Gwenyth explains to him where everything is — kitchen on the right, one bathroom on the left, her room in front of TKʼs. “And you have an ensuite bathroom, although I have made a few renovations since you last came, TK. I think you'll love it.” 

“Renovations?” TK squeals excited. “I can't wait!” 

Carlos shakes his head, amused at the way his boyfriend quickens his pace until his hand is on the door knob. “Slow down, tiger,” he calls out. “Weʼll have time to see everything.” 

“You know how impatient he is,” Gwenyth chuckles. “Iʼll leave you to it, boys. What about breakfast tomorrow at nine? I can order from that shop you like so much, TK.” 

“Oh, you're going to love it, Carlos!” TK turns with a wide grin. “It’s the best place in the world, and they have vegan donuts.” 

“Nine sounds perfect, Gwenyth,” Carlos replies politely. “But I would like to—” 

“If you say you're offering to pay, she will kick you out,” TK announces, interrupting him. “Cʼmon, Carlos. Iʼm exhausted.” 

“Something tells me you're not all that much tired,” Gwenyth jabs at them. “See you tomorrow. Make sure to sleep at least a couple of hours,” she laughs before entering her own room. 

TK opens the door to the space they will be sharing for the next few days and it takes everything in Carlosʼ not to exclaim in surprise. 

The room is at least twice as big as their own bedroom back in Austin. There’s a massive bed against the furthest wall, an ajar door to the left that Carlos can spy leads to a walk-in closet, another door that he thinks leads to the bathroom, and a fireplace across the room with enough space in front of it to fit a wooden coffee table and a single couch with a few colorful blankets on top of it. The room is complete with a soft-looking carpet spread in front of the fireplace. Carlos thinks there’s enough space for them to lie down comfortably too. 

“You had a fireplace in your room while growing up?” he canʼt help asking. 

“No!” TK cries out in amazement. “That’s the renovation my mom was talking about! I asked her to install one for years but she said she couldn’t. It's evidently fake, but I love it!” 

Carlos saunters towards the fireplace. He realizes it's a screen placed over the wall, surrounded by pladur columns and a mantelpiece. There’s a remote control resting on a charging nest. “But this is just a screen,” he notices. 

“That’s where you are mistaken,” TK smiles. When Carlos looks up at him, he sees his boyfriend with a handful of papers that seem to be the user manual for the fireplace screen. Carlos doesn’t know where it has come from, but he doesn’t ask. “It’s also a heater, so the room is warm in case the central heating system doesn’t work.” 

“You guys have a central heating system?” Carlos marvels. 

“We New Yorkers go big or go home, Carlos,” TK snickers. “How about I go make some hot chocolate while you unpack? Then we can enjoy the new fireplace together. It can be our first time with it, you and me. See how we can enjoy some first times together in New York?” 

Carlos bites down on his own smile. Heʼs been clearly overstressed about the fact that it's his first time in New York with TK — they're at the place where TK grew up, where he got his heart broken — and Carlos has been worried about TK realizing that he isn’t enough. 

“Okay, go, go!” he acquiesces. “Remember I love little marshmallows in my chocolate.” 

While TK is gone tinkering in the kitchen, Carlos unzips his suitcase and starts taking out the sweaters and jeans TK has forced him to pack, smoothing them out on the bed before going to the walk-in closet and placing the clothes on the racks and the shelves. Given how cold it was when they stepped outside of the airport — in that short span of land between the building and Gwenythʼs booked Uber — Carlos has to admit that TK was right in insisting that he packed all those fluffy jumpers. Even if he hasnʼt been able to see the snow properly because it was dark, Carlos can't wait for his vacation to actually start. 

He’s halfway through TKʼs suitcase when the door opens softly again, revealing TK holding a tray with two steamy mugs on top of it. “I see you're almost done unpacking,” he points out. 

“We didn’t really bring that many clothes.” 

“You’ve done mine as well?” TK beams at him. “My hero.” 

Carlos scoffs. He zips the suitcases back again and places them inside the closet as well. “This is huge,” he says. “I bet my whole bathroom could fit inside your closet.” 

“I admit I grew up in a great place,” TK explains while he leaves the tray on the coffee table in front of the fireplace screen. He punches some buttons on the remote, and the screen lights up with soft oranges accompanied with the crackling of fake flames. “Not many kids had as much as I did. But it came at a high price too,” he continues in a low voice. 

Carlos nods. He closes the door to the closet and rushes to sit on the floor, patting the spot right beside him so TK can take a seat as well. He knows TK had trouble dealing with his parentsʼ divorce; he knows how much it affected his views on the world, on relationships and on love. Carlos knows that a part of his insistence on making things work with Alex came from the idea that love can be broken if there arenʼt grand gestures — because that's what he associated with the brokenness he had learned to call family. 

“I know,” Carlos mutters. He surrounds TKʼs shoulders with his arm, pulling him closer. TK reaches out to grab the mugs and offers one to Carlos — the one with the higher amount of marshmallows. Carlos hums, sipping from it while a nice silence falls onto them. 

“Iʼm just happy I met you,” TK whispers after a few moments, but it doesn’t feel like heʼs broken any spell. He snuggles closer to Carlos. “Even after everything that happened, Iʼm so grateful. All that led me to you.” 

Carlos has to kiss him after those words. TK kisses him back in earnest, and soon they have to drop the mugs somewhere on the floor before they knock them off as they roll closer to the screen, kissing and touching and nipping underneath the soft glow of the first fireplace they have ever shared. 

There’s a sudden urge that makes Carlos’ hand wander south until it’s snuck underneath TK’s jeans, popping the button open and earning a chuckle out of him, but he doesn’t get far. Carlos swallows the sound in a kiss that quickly consumes them both. He doesn’t know how, but he ends up flopped on his back with TK on top, undoing his shirt and kissing a trail down his chest until he reaches Carlos’ waist. 

“Wait, wait,” Carlos says when TK’s lips graze a little too south for his liking — and it’s not that he doesn’t like it when Tk has him under his mercy, but he doesn’t feel comfortable knowing Gwenyth is in the room across the hall. “What are we doing?”

“If you have to ask, then I’m not doing it quite alright, now am I?” TK replies, the cheeky bastard, his fingers palming Carlos through his jeans.

“You know—it isn’t—”

“Don’t overthink it, Carlos,” TK mumbles in his ear, and suddenly he’s all around Carlos. “Please.” It comes out more like a moan than anything else, and it’s doing _things_ to Carlos. “Let yourself go, Officer Reyes.”

And that, _that_ is what does it for him.

With an almost animalistic growl, he surges up, pulling TK into a bruising kiss, nipping and biting until TK’s reduced to a moaning heap of bones and flesh over him, returning the kisses. They roll around, barely avoiding knocking the mugs onto the floor; TK’s hands are all over Carlos’ skin, who’s suddenly lost his shirt and still doesn’t know how that happened. His fingers deftly toy with TK’s jeans until he’s managed to tug them down, letting TK tug out of them swiftly before they keep on with their task of undressing each other. Soon enough, they’re both skin against skin, separated by a breadth of air and covered in the orange light coming from the fireplace screen.

They writhe and rut against each other — TK complains about the lack of lube and Carlos hits his own forehead with his palm. “I just—”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” TK pants, stopping his ministrations long enough to pierce Carlos with that green gaze of his. “You forgot to pack the lube _and_ the condoms?”

“I wasn’t planning on—”

TK laughs low in his throat before leaning in and whispering in Carlos’ ear, “I’ll have to work with my hands tonight, then.” 

He wastes no time in grabbing Carlos in between his fingers, squeezing as he experimentally twists his wrist. Carlos knows he’s just testing the waters — TK knows exactly what he likes and how he likes it — and before he can even point out that he’s driving him crazy, TK moves his hand and twists his fingers and Carlos feels his pulse quicken and his breaths coming out harsh and raw. “TK, I don’t—I don’t think—” he mumbles incoherently.

He should be ashamed that he hasn’t lasted long, but he’s too far gone to even _think_ about it when he’s coming, spurting all over TK’s hand, and feeling a warmth on his belly that he knows doesn’t belong to him entirely, if the shaking from TK above him is any telling that his hands and mouth aren’t needed for this round. TK collapses on top of him; they both exhale shakily, not saying anything.

“The chocolate has gone cold,” TK mumbles, but it doesn’t come out like a complaint. Carlos snuggles closer to him, throwing over them one of the blankets from the cozy couch they have completely overlooked in favour of the carpeted floor. 

“I don’t think I mind that at all,” Carlos whispers. TK chuckles in reply, hiding his face in the crook of Carlos’ neck and kissing the spot where he can feel Carlos’ pulse rushing through his veins. “We should get up.”

“Just a while longer,” TK asks in a quiet voice. “It feels good here.”

Carlos kisses the crown of TK’s head, the only place he can reach in their awkward position, before muttering, “yeah, it does.”

The sun meets them sprawled on the floor when it dares to greet the world the following morning.


	4. all the fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tk takes carlos to the ice rink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _christmas (baby please come home)_ , hanson’s version
> 
> written for [12 days of tarlos 2020](https://buckieys.tumblr.com/post/631968766900797440/12-days-of-tarlos-dec-14-25), **_day 10: ice skating_**
> 
>  **warnings for this chapter:** blow jobs, suggestion, feeble attempt at writing smut, fluff

Carlos wakes up when the first rays of sun hit his face. Heʼs never been a heavy sleeper — much unlike TK, who's currently snoring softly, pressed against Carlosʼ chest — so while he would love to keep sleeping, the light and the fact that his limbs are screaming after spending the night on the floor keep him from falling back into slumber. From the watch he didn’t take off last night, he gathers that it's too early to actually get up on holidays, but early enough to wake TK up the way his boyfriend likes it. 

He maneuvers until heʼs managed to get TKʼs head safely on the floor, over the carpet that has swallowed most of the cold seeping through the wooden floor. TK grunts but otherwise he doesn’t even budge much. Carlos pecks him softly on the lips, enough pressure for it to be considered a kiss but light enough not to wake TK up — yet. His hands feather over the planes of TKʼs chest, stopping over the scar left by the bullet that almost robbed them all of TKʼs precious existence. Carlos is reverent in his worshipping of TKʼs body, especially when it comes to battle scars — all the white lines and marks that mar TKʼs skin tell a story about sin and atonement, about sacrifice and selflessness. His lips kiss over the scars, his fingers trace over the marks, slowly making his way down, down, down, to where last night he was too far gone to even _think_ of worshipping. He shakes his head when he remembers the way TK had taken care of him, and how quickly everything had been over — not even a touch of fingertips to tip TK over the edge. Carlos thinks now it’s the time to reciprocate. 

He dives in, peppering kisses throughout TKʼs stomach and below his navel, taking advantage of the fact that they’re both naked underneath the blanket. He pauses to check TK hasn't even stirred a bit, and then he proceeds to go down on his boyfriend — mouth wetting at the simple thought of having his lips around TK, Carlos licks and nips before he engulfs TK in wet warmth. 

TK moans in his sleep, writhing under Carlosʼ ministrations without waking up. Not that Carlos was expecting him to — TK has always slept through loud noises and hectic times, probably a byproduct of his job line. Carlos hums around TK, feeling him hardening and filling his mouth, louder moans escaping his still asleep form. He smiles around his mouthful, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder, wetter, messier, until he can feel TKʼs abdomen spasming — the tale-telling signal that heʼs been waiting for — and TK comes down Carlosʼ throat with a groan and a shudder, Carlos following suit, excited and horny in a way he hasnʼt been since high school. 

The things TK Strand does to him. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he greets, making his way up once again until heʼs resting his head on top of TKʼs heart, careful as not to spread the mess heʼs made of himself underneath a blanket in TKʼs old room. 

“Good morning to you too,” TK replies, voice thick with sleep and husky with desire. “It was such a great way to wake up.” 

“I live to please,” Carlos mumbles. “We should get up and get going.” 

“Oh, I will get _something_ up alright,” TK teases him, hand already sneaking down south. 

When they make it out of the room, almost two hours after Carlos first woke up — a shared shower and some water gymnastics later as well — TKʼs mother is nowhere to be seen. Carlos relaxes; heʼs been freaking out ever since their second round, because he canʼt help himself when TK has his hands all over Carlosʼ body, and heʼs always way too loud. It doesn’t matter when they're alone in their apartment, but Carlos has been trying to behave around Gwenyth. 

He’s clearly failed this time. 

“Don't worry,” TK tells him. He picks up an apple from a kitchen bowl and bites down on it. “She’s probably had to leave for work. See, she's even left a note.” 

TK pushes a square of paper towards Carlos, who grabs it and reads it aloud. “ _I need to get going, have an early meeting at the Firm. See you at dinner, if you manage to keep your hands off each other, you heathens_. ” Carlos groans. “I won’t be able to look her in the eye ever again, Ty.” 

“Don't be silly,” TK scolds him. “Weʼre all adults, and she knows weʼre still in the honeymoon phase.” 

Carlos blushes even though he knows it's true — he hopes he never gets rid of this feeling of novelty and love he gets whenever heʼs close to TK. 

“What’s, uh, what’s in our plans for today?” he aims for a change of subject. That brings TKʼs focus back to the important matter at hand. 

“Today weʼre going to Rockefeller Center!” he exclaims excitedly. “And it's going to snow. I checked the forecast. You're in for a treat!” 

“I have never skated,” Carlos informs his boyfriend. “I don't think it's a good idea at all.” 

TK reaches out and covers Carlosʼ shaking hands with his. “I will hold your hand the whole time, I promise. I won't let you fall.” 

And Carlos believes him. 

Another hour later, Carlos is still a bouncing bundle of nerves, this time cuddled up in a warm coat and three layers of sweaters, while waiting in the queue to the ice rink with TK by his side. He feels silly, surrounded by so many people — parents and their children, groups of teenagers talking loudly to each other — and he has never felt more out of his depth in his life. He knows he's going to make a fool out of himself once he gets on the ice; he doesn’t even know how to tie his skates properly. 

“You’re thinking too loud,” TK tells him laughing. “Weʼre up next. Don't think I have forgotten about my promise.” 

He holds Carlosʼ hand while he asks for their skate sizes, and he even helps Carlos put them up correctly. TK walks him to the rink and helps him get in, going so far as to show him how to place his feet in order not to fall; when Carlos feels himself sure enough on the ice — when heʼs been helped through two complete laps and he thinks he can go on his own — TK tells him that heʼs going to do a few figures in the center, deserted from any skater. At first, Carlos thinks he's joking, maybe a jab to lighten up the mood, but soon enough he realizes that's not the case. 

TK starts turning and twisting on the snow, jumping and falling easily on his feet, and he even makes an axel followed by a double flip, double loop combination. Carlos stares at him agape, hands firmly clutching the barrier keeping him from sliding down onto the ice. He watches as his boyfriend speeds up, turns around and marvels everyone at the rink with his impeccable technique. When TKʼs done, everyone claps and Carlos can see him blushing as he skates back to him. 

“You didn’t tell me you were that good!” he scolds TK. 

“I won some championships when I was a child,” TK pants. “But when it came to the point where I had to choose between going pro or following into my fatherʼs footsteps, you already know what I chose. I simply wanted to make sacrifices that changed the world in a way ice skating would never do.” 

“You’re full of surprises, TK,” Carlos shakes his head at him. 

“Well, enough of me,” TK tells him. “How do you feel about me treating you to a New York special? A street hog dog with an extra of everything?” 

Carlos nods, eager to get rid of the skates and be able to walk on his two feet again. He follows TK out of the rink, among the marveled chatter of the people who have witnessed TKʼs performance, and he thinks about his luck, and how he wants to have every surprise TK has in store for the rest of their lives. 

But first, heʼs going to enjoy one of the cityʼs better-known traditions. And if he daydreams of how heʼs going to surprise TK on New Yearʼs as they walk hand in hand in the snow, it’s something between his heart and his soul.


	5. what life’s really worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> carlos chooses new year’s eve and the ball dropping in times square as background to ask the most important question of his whole life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly/profile). any remaining mistakes are my own
> 
> title from _someday at christmas_ , hanson’s version

The snow is starting to fall when they reach Times Square, hours before the dropping of the ball signals the new year. Carlos walks among the snowflakes slowly but surely covering the street, the sky a soft white with a tinge of pink, just like heʼs always read what snow skies look like. Heʼs aware that heʼs sporting an astonished look in his eyes — mouth agape and eyes wide as he takes in the sheer beauty of a white blanket being draped over the city. 

“Do you like it?” he hears TK asking by his side. There are fingers finding his own over gloves and layers of fabric — he might love snow but he's a Southern boy through and through, he fears he will freeze to death if he isn’t properly wrapped in clothes — and Carlos allows his grasp to hold TKʼs hand a little tighter. 

“No,” he says, squeezing TK. “I _love_ it,” he adds. 

“Iʼm so glad. I wasn't sure youʼd bear it. It’s one thing to see snow on a postcard, and another to experience it.”

Carlos smiles widely at his boyfriend. “It’s perfect. White Christmas after all.” 

They stroll around the place, trying to find a good spot in the already crowded space. TK complains that there are too many people and that they’re not going to get near the ball, but Carlos couldn’t care less. He’s in New York right now, enjoying the snow with his boyfriendʼs hand in his and a velvet box in his pocket. He doesn’t need anything else — just TK saying _yes_. 

Carlos has everything planned, and not in any of his multiple ideas they are front row in Times Square. In fact, he thinks heʼd rather be in a secluded corner when the right time comes; he isn’t afraid of rejection but he knows TK is a very private person despite his outgoing personality. Carlos believes TK wasn’t always like this — Gwenyth and Owen have told him stories of their sunshine boy, the kid with the everlasting smile. Carlos has come to know that version of TK with time, as TK learned to kick down his walls and let people in. 

He isn’t ready to share that TK he loves so much with the world. He isn’t sure heʼll ever be. 

“There’s no way weʼre going to have a good view on the ball,” TK complains, kicking the ground with his boots like a child. 

“Itʼs okay, Ty,” Carlos tries to reason. “We can find somewhere calmer, some place to lean on when you get tired of standing up.” 

TK wants to protest, but Carlos cuts him off with a knowing glance. As much as he wants to ignore the fact, TK has developed chronic pain in the lower part of his back as a result of long shifts carrying heavy stuff and enduring changing weather. His bones resent his lifestyle; Carlos won't be the one to put more pressure on TK if he can avoid it. 

“We can go find a café, sit down for a while, then come back and see the ball drop.” 

“But that's not what I promised you!” TK whines. “I promised you the whole New York experience. We can't skip on Times Square.” 

Carlos huffs. He throws an arm around TKʼs shoulders as he speaks. “I am having the New York experience, TK. This trip has been amazing, and it's going to be perfect when I get to kiss you at midnight, regardless of where we are. We will ring in the new year whether weʼre up in the crowd in Times Square or watching the ball on TV.” 

“But—” 

“No _buts_. We still have time. Let's go.” 

He guides TK through the throngs of people as though he knows how to navigate the crowd, hand in hand as they walk away from the ball. Carlos finds a spot to turn around and admire the view — the lights around the ball, the giant screens showing ads over and over, the music from the speakers that precedes the live show that will take place later — and he smiles. 

“This is beautiful.” 

“You’re going to miss on all the fun,” TK grumbles miserably.

“Hey, look at me,” Carlos says, tugging at TKʼs hand until heʼs forced his boyfriend to look up at him. “I have all the fun I need right here, with you. So long as weʼre together, I donʼt need anything else.”

TK cracks a small smile. “Are you for real?” he wonders. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

Carlos leans in and pecks him on the lips. “Now, there’s nowhere in this damned city where we can eat something?” he laughs. “Iʼm _starving_!” 

TK turns around and points at somewhere down the street. “Another New York experience!” he cries out. “A food truck!” 

“We have those in—” 

“Not a churros with chocolate truck!” 

Carlos frowns at TK. He loves his _churros con chocolate_ but he hadn’t even thought he would find it in New York of all places. It’s his familyʼs tradition to have churros and chocolate on New Year morning; heʼd given up on having it this year when TK sprung this trip on him. “You’re joking.” 

“Iʼm _not_!” TK insists, gesturing toward the truck. Carlos can see an old truck painted in yellow with a neon sign on the roof, a few fairy lights and a man inside announcing his food out of the top of his lungs. “I know it's a Reyes tradition, and this is so fitting!” 

TK drags him over and orders two chocolates and so many churros that Carlos isn’t sure they will be able to finish them. They’re engulfed by what he can only describe as _mirth_ as they walk to the side, only to discover a few tables scattered throughout the curb and some festive lights that undoubtedly belong to the food truck. Carlos follows TK and they sit at one of the tables despite the cold and the snow. They bite on their churros; Carlos laughs as TK fails to eat a churro dipped in chocolate without leaving a trail on his chin. 

And it's then, surrounded by blinding lights in the outskirts of Times Square on New Yearʼs Eve and munching on the sweet and greasy treat TK had managed to find, that Carlos realizes he doesn’t want to wait any longer. If he does, there will never be a perfect moment. He will chicken out. 

And he really doesn’t think it will get more perfect than this moment — together somewhere they both love, sharing a moment and being happy in a way Carlos knows he has never been before. The need to say something, _anything_ , intensifies when he watches TK get distracted by some noise on the far end of the street; there are fireworks and people singing, and Carlos knows this is the moment.

TK has never looked more beautiful under the moonlight, even if it’s dimmed by the neon lights everywhere. Carlos has never been more in love.

He clears his throat. “TK,” he begins. When those green eyes focus on him, Carlos starts fidgeting. He places his chocolate plastic cup on top of the table, right there on the curb, he wipes his hand on a napkin theyʼve snatched from the truck barely a few feet away, and he breathes in deeply. “I—I had this whole speech and everything and—” 

He fishes for the box in his pocket under TKʼs scrutinizing gaze. “What are you doing, Carlos?” he whispers. “Carlos?”

But he's too busy bending one knee on a filthy New York City street while snow falls around them. Carlos looks up at TK, holding a plastic cup in one hand and a churro in the other, blinking back at him with glistening eyes. 

“I have been waiting for the perfect moment, and this is it. I love you,” Carlos starts. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't want to ring in the new year with my boyfriend. I would love to ring it with my _fiancé_.” 

TK chokes on his own tears. There are a few people gathered around them; Carlos can see some taking out their phones and filming the whole situation. 

“I look like a fool,” TK says instead of answering the unspoken question Carlos hasn't asked. “What’s in this whole eating churros and drink chocolate on the street situation that's made you think it's perfect?” 

Carlos knows that's not the real question — he can read TK better than he can read himself. He knows TK is really asking if Carlos thinks _he_ is perfect. 

“You,” he answers truthfully. “I don't care where we are and what weʼre doing. I want to be with you, anywhere, anyhow. Forever. Will you marry me?” 

There’s a blur of movement, and everything gets forgotten — the chocolate cups, the churros, the snow, the crowd around them and the crowd on Times Square, the ball, the lights and even their own names — as TK kneels down in front of Carlos and cradles his face in his hands. 

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he mutters, leaving flittering kisses on Carlosʼ skin. “I love you.”

Carlos takes the ring out of the box — a simple silver band with a solitary diamond — and slips it on TKʼs fingers with shaky hands. They kiss and kiss, and kiss some more among the cheering and the wolf whistles, until they don’t know where Carlos ends and TK begins. 

When the ball drops, hours later, Carlos gets his wish granted. 

He gets to kiss his fiancé into the new year.


End file.
